Chapter Forty: The Tyrant's Demise

An hour later, the county police arrived. Leading the group was Su Qiu—the one whom Captain Meng referred to as “Little Su”—along with several assistants. After all, this wasn’t considered a major case.

By the time Su Qiu drove into Changqi Village, it was already around noon. He parked the car and entered Lü Daqi’s house.

At that moment, You Jia was still so shaken that she hadn’t even changed out of her pajamas. This sight made the young and vigorous Su Qiu’s breath quicken involuntarily. He steadied himself and asked, “You were the first to discover the body?”

“Yes, yes,” You Jia nodded.

“What’s your relation to the deceased? And why are you in his home, still in pajamas?” Su Qiu questioned sharply.

You Jia hesitated for a long while before replying with some embarrassment, “I’m Lü Daqi’s girlfriend, though we were about to register for marriage soon.”

Su Qiu looked at You Jia—who seemed to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight—and then at the age of the deceased, and couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly. “Where were you when the deceased died?”

You Jia faltered and recounted the events, finally saying in some confusion, “I fainted at the time, and when I woke up, Daqi was already dead.”

Su Qiu frowned. “If what you say is true, then the killer must have been just outside the door. When you opened it, the murderer took the opportunity to knock you out, then fought Lü Daqi one-on-one. All the dogs in the yard were poisoned, which is clearly from eating poisoned buns. Where did this butcher’s knife come from? Was it the killer’s?”

“No, it belonged to Daqi. He used to be a butcher, so he kept the knife,” You Jia explained.

“After knocking you out, the killer must have made some noise. The butcher’s knife here suggests Lü Daqi took it out himself. He wasn’t old, and having been a butcher, he must have been strong. For the killer to fight Lü Daqi one-on-one and win, he must have been formidable as well.”

Su Qiu inspected the surroundings in detail and then asked, “Did Lü Daqi have any enemies?”

You Jia hesitated again.

“I’m asking if he had enemies. Is that so hard to answer? Either he did or he didn’t. Has he had any recent conflicts with anyone?” Su Qiu pressed.

“He had a lot of enemies; in our town, at least eighty or a hundred people hated him,” You Jia replied. “But in the past few days, he hadn’t had any new conflicts.”

Su Qiu was somewhat perplexed. Having only recently joined the police force, he didn’t fully understand the darker sides of society.

You Jia explained the situation simply.

Su Qiu almost muttered to himself that the killing was justified—evil men like that, who bullied and dominated the town, were better off dead. Still, as a police officer, he dutifully tried to collect fingerprints, but in the end, found nothing. The killer had been too thorough, leaving no trace behind.

Su Qiu continued his investigation, but he didn’t connect this case with those of the Chopstick Maniac. After all, the Chopstick Maniac was known for grand crimes, while this case seemed too petty and didn’t fit the same pattern.

By the next morning, the news of Lü Daqi—the local overlord—being killed had spread throughout Changqi Village and even the entire Nanling Town. Countless villagers rejoiced; many families set off firecrackers in celebration, their homes echoing with the sound as they welcomed the death of Lü Daqi.

“The one who killed Lü Daqi is a good person!”

“Yes, with a bully like him gone, we can finally live in peace.”

“We’ll even be able to earn more from our crops.”

“Exactly.”

…

By the seaside cottage, an old song from the eighties played: “Life Like a Sword and Blade.”

“Where my sword will go, I do not know,
Torn between love and hate, hard to let go.
My blade cuts through the endless sky,
Right and wrong—do I really know why?
I drink myself into a haze,
Grievances and favors, merely illusions.”

Shen Ye was listening to the song. These old tunes from the eighties were deeply moving, evoking memories of childhood.

Just then, the door opened.

Today, Wen Xiuting wore a white lace blouse with delicate trim at the sleeves and collar, paired with a blue skirt patterned with white dots. She wore white stockings and shoes adorned with bows, making her look like a princess from a fairytale. Wen Xiuting was young to begin with, and in this youthful outfit, she looked no more than twenty, though her ample figure was impossible to overlook.

“Sister-in-law’s here,” Shen Ye greeted casually.

Wen Xiuting walked over, step by step, and gazed down at Shen Ye. “Was it you who killed Lü Daqi—the overlord of our village?”

Shen Ye was tuning his guitar. Back in high school, he learned to play because it was said to be the easiest way to win a girl’s heart. Who could have guessed that by the time he reached college, guitars were out of fashion, overtaken by cars and money, and he still didn’t have a girlfriend—a truly lamentable fact. Without looking up, he replied to Wen Xiuting’s question, “Yes, I did. Why?”

“You actually killed him? Just because of what you overheard at my house?”

“No, you’re mistaken about one thing. I never kill without reason. I have indeed taken a few lives, but I can promise you, every single one of them was a villain. If not corrupt officials or local tyrants, then truly wicked, heartless, and ungrateful people. I have never killed an innocent person by mistake. As for Lü Daqi—not only did he bully and oppress the townsfolk, and commit unspeakable acts against women—he also has two murders on his hands. The police only found enough evidence to convict him of one.”

Wen Xiuting’s voice grew low and emotional. “I’m not blaming you for killing him—I’m just moved. Before, you risked your life for me by storming into Lu Youwei’s stronghold. Lu Youwei is one of the four big bosses of County N, with countless hardened followers and even guns. You got shot and barely recovered. Now, for my sake, you’ve killed Lü Daqi, that tyrant. Thank you.”

Indeed.

After marrying Shen Die, Wen Xiuting’s husband had opened and closed shops repeatedly, forcing her to work hard to provide for the family, buy milk powder for their son, and send him to kindergarten. In their four or five years of marriage, she had never once felt protected.

But now, with Shen Ye, she felt what it was like to be cared for.

Of course, Wen Xiuting knew her feelings were misplaced.

She was already married to Shen Die. No matter how disappointing he was, she must remain faithful.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the chaotic thoughts in her mind.

Shen Ye was about to say something—something along the lines of coincidence, that he simply happened to kill those people. But he realized that the atmosphere inside the seaside cottage had grown warm and ambiguous, tinged with awkwardness.